


Give me hope... Give me yourself.

by LunaLovel



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Cute, Cutting, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, First Relationship, First Time, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I Suck At Tags lol, I swear to satan it gets better as you read it, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Romance, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, pls read it really does have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 05:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17554442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaLovel/pseuds/LunaLovel
Summary: You closed your eyes as you heard the vehicle approaching. This was it.You readied yourself, preparing to jump....





	Give me hope... Give me yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear it is going to have a happy ending please don't hate me  
> Please leave a comment and tell me what did you think of it ~

The underground was undeniably freezing, which was made clear by the fact that you could see your own breath. Short, ragged breathing, like you had just run a marathon, even though the situation was quite the opposite, as it took you twenty minutes to walk the short two block distance from your house to the underground. You were in no rush.  
At this point the cold did not bother you, you felt like your whole body and mind were entirely numb. You could not feel anything other than sadness and utter defeat. You felt empty.  
You came here to die.  
People were staring at you, you felt their gaze pierce your skin from every direction. Of course they did, anyone would be disturbed by a woman in her early twenties wearing only thin jeans and a t-shirt in december, mascara running down her face, blood still dripping from her wrists.  
You had tried to end your life by slashing your wrists, hence your bloodied arms, but you were not brave enough to make the cuts deep enough. So, you left your apartment and came here, thinking that maybe jumping in front of a train in the underground would be easier. It would be over in a second, unlike bleeding out. Nice and easy.  
You closed your eyes as you heard the vehicle approaching. This was it.  
You readied yourself, preparing to jump.  
You opened your eyes, but instead of the metro coming closer, you saw a familiar face.  
He looked like an angel, someone sent straight from heaven, too pure for this cruel world. Worry apparent on his beautiful face, he searched your eyes intently.  
“Please don’t do it,” the angel said, his voice full of pleading. You could only stare at him, lost, confused. Were you hallucinating? Perhaps you died already?  
“Do you hear me? Please, please… Don’t jump.” He looked like he might cry. You were still dazed, trying to comprehend what was happening exactly.  
You knew him well, but he obviously had no idea of your existence, so how was he here?  
The ethereal man standing in front you was Jung Hoseok, the rapper of your favourite band, BTS. The very band that had helped you survive throughout your depression, the only glimmer of joy in your miserable life. After seven years of battling with self-harm, severe depression and suicidal thoughts though, BTS just wasn't enough to make you want to fight through another day anymore. It was all too much, and you were so, so exhausted. You just wanted it to end. You wanted all of it to end.  
The train stopped behind him. Some people got in, the doors closed, and in the blink of an eye, the vehicle was already gone, speeding away to its next stop. You focused your eyes on Hoseok again.  
Finally, you were pulled out of your daze by him hugging you. “It’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay, everything will be alright, please, trust me. You have so much to live for.”  
And then you were sobbing.  
Finally, like you were awaken from a trance, you came to your senses and collapsed into his hug, crying hysterically.  
“Shh, it’s okay now, I’m here, it’s okay,” he kept repeating while stroking your hair gently to somehow comfort you.  
“We are going to get you to a hospital, okay? Is that alright with you?”  
You were unable to talk, crying too hard to even try and get a word out, so you opted for nodding instead.  
Only then did you realize that there were two muscular men next to him, one already on the phone, probably calling an ambulance, the other looking around varily. You suspected they  
were bodyguards, he was Jung Hoseok after all, a member of the biggest boy group of the century. Of course he wouldn't be alone.  
The two of you stayed like that, you crying into his arms, him tenderly caressing your shaking form as the two men looked over you, guarding you from curious onlookers.  
When the emergency medical responders arrived they put you on a stretcher, immediately tending to your wounds as they hurriedly carried you out of the underground and into an ambulance already waiting there. You momentarily lost sight of Hoseok amidst the chaos and already started mourning the few minutes you were able to spend with him down there, coming to the conclusion that you probably won’t see him ever again.  
You were proven wrong though when you saw him, swiftly getting into the ambulance and sitting next to your stretcher.  
“Sorry, I had to convince them to let me in because I’m not a relative, and the bodyguards didn’t want to let me go either…”  
You stared at him in shock, tears of relief starting to fall from your eyes. He must have misunderstood your crying because he quickly added, “But I’m here now! Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you!”

***

The next thing you remember is you waking up in a hospital bed. You must have passed out in the ambulance.  
You blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust to the harsh bright light of the hospital room. The smell of strong disinfectant that lingered through the whole place made you feel a bit sick, so you tried to sit up, deciding it would best to visit the restroom and splash yourself with a bit of cold water.  
That is when you spot him, sleeping on a comfortable looking armchair.  
Oh.  
How could you have forgot about him, you wondered.  
He looked unreal, like he was an idealized painting of a person, not a real, living breathing human. Even just being able to see him sleep made you feel blessed, like you got to see something sacred, something extremely rare, something that is out of this world.  
He opened his eyes, looking around the room in a bit of a daze. He smiled brightly when your eyes met and you could swear in that moment you saw angel wings.


End file.
